


it's all politics

by ghostvinyls (jebbyfish)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, written for pidge ship zine weeeeeee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 06:32:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15902796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jebbyfish/pseuds/ghostvinyls
Summary: Student council elections are right around the corner, and of course Pidge had to be running against one of her best friends. And of course, he had to be obnoxious about it. And, well, of course, things were bound to get messy.All's fair in love and high school politics.edit 9/9/18: a/n update and some error fixes ;w;





	it's all politics

He was _unbelievable._

Pidge maneuvered her way around the colliding smells of body spray and warm vanilla scented lotion that spread throughout the McClain household. This was a cheap move. Lance probably--no, _definitely_ \-- knew it was a cheap move, because that was the exact kind of slimy high school politician he _was._

“Pidge! You made it!”

He waved her over from his spot in the kitchen, where he stood refilling bowls of chips. She beelined her way towards him, a furrow in her brow, anger balling in her fists. Lance gave her a grin, casual, conniving. Despicable. “How ya liking the party?”

“You are absolutely _insufferable.”_

“Hey, don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

“This goes against every campaign rule in the book.”

Lance gave a nonchalant shrug. “I skimmed that.”

A frustrated sigh bubbled from Pidge’s mouth, and she threw her hands up in exasperation. “I just--I can’t _believe_ you.”

“Hey, throwing a party has nothing to do with the campaign. But, you know,” Lance was rummaging through the cooler, a whistle passing through his lips. “If people found out that Lance McClain, candidate for Vice President of Garrison Tech’s Student Council, was the _host_ of said party…”

“I’m going to run your campaign into the _ground,_ McClain.”

Lance’s head perked up at the statement, shaking ice off the two bottles of vitaminwater from the cooler. Pidge had her arms folded, her lower lip jutted out at him, left foot tapping angrily against the tile floor.

It made his heart skip a beat. Or two, if he was honest.

“Is that your campaign promise?” He played it off cool, despite the genuine worry picking at his conscious. Her brows raised in quiet thought, and he could see gears turning.

“It is now.”

And with that, Pidge turned on her heel and walked out, weaving around the crowd, her all-too-perfect ponytail swishing back and forth as she did. Someone behind him let out a whistle.

“You must be quivering in your sneakers.”

He turned, quietly scrutinizing Keith, the next-in-line for StuCo President. He was the only candidate, of course, and he made the most sense after being Vice President under Shiro last year.

“Pidge isn’t scary, dude. She’s like… a puppy. With nice hair.” Lance finally said. Keith’s eyes rolled.

“I still don’t know why you won’t tell her you like her.”

“Because it’s _weird,_ Keith. She’ll think I’m trying to throw off her game.”

“Oh, right, because competing against her for VP is doing _wonders_ for yours. Besides, she’s not gonna back down.”

Lance hated when Keith was right. He let him know that, by giving him a hard glare. Not that Keith was paying attention, more focused to picking out the pretzel sticks from his bowl of Chex mix. A beat passed in silence.

Lance needed a new plan.

“Sweet party, by the way.” Keith said after a moment.

“I’ll accept the party compliment.” Lance decided before abandoning Keith in the kitchen, the gears in his mind already turning. Pidge wasn’t supposed to be a problem. Sure, he liked her. She was his friend. But with election season, Lance would be damned if he lost the VP position to her. He was more popular, despite Pidge’s claims of it not being a popularity contest. But Keith was right: she won’t back down.

_Unless…_

He had an idea. A pretty terrible idea, sure, but Pidge was a force to be reckoned with, and Lance wasn’t intent on losing to a nerd whose campaign promises included boring things like new textbooks and fundraising for new bleachers in the gym.

It was formulating in his head at that very second, as Lance scrolled through the photos and videos he had saved on his phone, searching for something _very_ specific.

A cheap move indeed.

* * *

 

“A vote for Pidge is a vote for the environment?” Hunk read aloud, causing Pidge to look down at him from her position on her stepladder.

“I’m proposing replacing our paper towel dispensers with hand dryers, plus biodegradable lunch trays to replace the cheap styrofoam ones. Didn’t you read my itinerary?”

“Your itinerary was twelve pages long and I had to study for calc.”

“Everyone’s a critic,” she huffed, gesturing for Hunk to hand her the next flyer. “So, you’re voting for me right?”

“I’m not voting at all. Feels weird.” Hunk shook his head, reading off the next flyer. “‘The P in VP stands for Pidge’? I _know_ you didn’t write that.”

“Matt thought I should change it up. Show people I can be fun and cute. You’re not gonna vote for yourself?”

“Is this how Matt won his vice presidency? And nah. If I win, I win.”

“So honorable. And, yeah. I wanna win cause I’m cheesy and have good ideas, like Matt. Not cause I throw _parties.”_ The bitterness in her tone was far too apparent.

Pidge leapt down from the ladder a moment later. Droves of students passed the pair, whispering and eyes shifting as they did. Pidge didn’t usually notice the looks. Nobody used to pay attention to her, but she figured attention was the price to pay when it came to election season.

Then Hunk’s phone beeped, and Pidge busied herself with folding the ladder until she heard him squeak. Gasp. A soft, almost inaudible, “oh, no.”

“Hunk?”

He jumped at her voice, guilt etched onto his face as he clicked his phone off and shoved it into the pocket of his khakis.

“Hey Pidge! What’s crackin?”

“Uh, something up?”

“Nothing’s up. Except the water damage on the ceiling in Principal Altea’s office. I mean, sheesh, you think the guy would call someone in to fix that--”

“Hunk.”

She folded her arms, squinting at him, hard. Hunk’s poker face was as fragile as glass.

He sighed in surrender, fishing his phone back out. “Okay. You have to promise not to freak out.”

“You know, Hunk, it’s hard to _not_ freak out when you tell me to not freak out.”

“Okay. Can you promise you won’t do anything… rash?”

Her eyebrows lifted, a hand gesturing to his phone. “Let me see.”

It took her a moment to realize what she was looking at. A video, forty seconds long. Almost dark, save for the fluorescent lights that showcased a teenage girl with a set of pliers and a backpack. She didn’t have to watch the rest to figure out what happens next. Instead, her eyes flicked up to the person who posted the video.

And then her stomach dropped.

_This isn’t happening. He wouldn’t--_

“Miss Holt?”

She stared up into the eyes of Principal Altea, Mr. Smythe trailing behind him, concern in his eyes. She raised a hand in a quiet wave, resisting the urge to look at the tremble in her fingers.

“Th-that’s me.”

“Can you please come to my office?”

* * *

 

She would have been dead if Mr. Smythe wasn’t there. Suspended on the spot. But she was grateful the student council advisor was on her side.

She wasn’t suspended, no, but somehow the punishment she got was worse.

“You’re dropped from the ballot, Miss Holt, plus three week’s detention and twenty hours of community service.”

 _Could be worse,_ she thought, a bitter taste in her mouth.

Hunk was waiting for her outside the office, pacing, wringing his hands, eyebrows shooting up once she was finally, _finally_ released from the clutches of high school administration. He was staring, waiting for the verdict.

“I’m… not running for vice president,” the words came out slow, and Pidge winced a little as she said it. “I have to drop my campaign. Plus detention and community service.”

Hunk let out a sigh of relief. “I thought for sure they were going to expel you.”

“Mr. Smythe fought for me. So, yay, I guess.”

“Hey, the dude fights for everyone. Think you’re ready for class?”

“Uh, sure. Although, we do have to take down all my campaign flyers.”

“A shame, cause I thought ‘A Vote for Pidge is a Vote for New Bleachers!’ was a fantastic campaign promise.” He offered a smile, a nudge of her shoulder, and Pidge nudged back.

“Thanks. We have about twelve minutes to kill before first bell--”

“Well, well! If it isn’t two of my favorite people!”

She stopped in her tracks, forcing her head to look up towards Lance, who gave the pair an effortless grin, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket as if he didn’t pull the worst political stunt in the history of high school student council.

“Morning, Lance,” there was an edge to Hunk’s voice, eyes flicking between him and Pidge. “Sorry I couldn’t make your party on Saturday.”

“Eh, party’s over. We’re onto bigger things. I’m thinking bake sale. You up to help me with that?”

Hunk didn’t answer, clearing his throat, raising a hand to wave at someone. “Oh, shoot, hey! I think I see Shay! Sorry guys, but I, uh, should ask her about our calc test today.”

“Oh, well--” Lance blinked, watching as Hunk shuffled down the hall, brows raising in surprise. “That was weird. How ‘bout you Pidge?”

“Stop talking to me.”

If his brows could go any higher, they would. “What? What are you--”

“Why’d you post that video, Lance?”

Video?

Oh.

_Oh._

The guilty knot that started to formulate in his chest last night tightened. Her eyes were wide, watery. Lance gulped around the dryness in his throat.

He didn’t have a good explanation, really. He could blame it on a fight-or-flight response, pulling the video up and hovering a finger over the publish icon. He wasn’t going to do it, of course. Cause Pidge was his friend and he _liked_ her and it was a pretty horrible thing to do to a person. But then Mom called him down for dinner, and he wasn’t paying attention when he hit the enter key, and by the time he returned to his computer it had already been shared a few times. A couple of hundred times, to be precise. And he was a little beyond damage control, besides sending a text to Allura that only read, “I am going to die.”

And he forgot about that. And he remembered, in horror, the text he was going to send her last night but didn’t, because for some dumb reason Lance figured it’d be a lot easier to sleep the problem off and deal with it in the morning.

And now it was morning. And Pidge was standing in front of him, hands balled at her sides, betrayal painted on her face.

_All for the win of Vice President._

“I can explain,” Lance finally said.

“I don’t want you to. In fact, Lance, don’t talk to me again. Congrats on your win.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“I-I’m off the ballot. What, like this wasn’t your big plan all along?”

There was a sinking feeling in his chest, and Lance took a hard look around the hall, suddenly aware of the bystanders who _knew_.

“Pidge, I swear I--”

“You can be such a jerk sometimes, you know? I… I gotta get to Spanish.”

She shoulder-checked him as she hurried past Lance and gawking passerby. His hands felt a little clammy, staring after her, anxiety tugging at his heartstrings.

And it occurred to him, in horror, that he really messed up.

And he had to fix this. Because Pidge deserved a lot better than this.

And with that, Lance got started on a new plan.

* * *

 

“I’m convinced you’re going to die.” Hunk said over the phone. Lance let out a hard sigh, staring up at Pidge’s house from the street.

“This is the only thing I could think of doing to make it up to her.”

“Oh yeah. It’s totes noble and, better, extremely dorky, but I mean, it’s been a couple of weeks and she still isn’t talking to you.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious, but do I look like a quitter?”

“You smell like one.”

Lance couldn’t help but grin into the receiver. “Thanks again, buddy! I’ll talk to you later to discuss phase two.”

“Phase two? What the _heck_ are you talking abou--”

And like that, Lance hung up and took the porch steps up to Pidge’s house two at a time, gulping hard before knocking on the door. He didn’t think that Pidge was going to drop everything and forgive him, no. But he figured, you know, she was important enough that he had to give it a shot.

Besides, if this didn’t work, Lance clearly didn’t know a thing about Pidge. And he was riding on the possibility that he really, really knew a lot about Pidge.

She was the person to open the door, poised to slam it as soon as she looked him in the eye before Lance threw a hand in the space, praying to any god that was watching that she wouldn’t crush his fingers.

“Wait, wait!” Lance yelped, and thank his lucky stars she didn’t have enough anger to slam the door. Pidge narrowed her eyes.

“What do you want, Lance?”

“I came here to, uh, apologize.”

Smooth.

She crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe, waiting for him to continue before noticing the neon green poster board in his other hand. She quirked a brow.

“What’s with that?”

“This?” Lance acknowledged, glancing at the poster board for the first time in the last twenty minutes he’s been pacing in front of her house. God, he spent way too long making this stupid thing. Too much time, too much glitter glue and foam letters. “It’s my apology.”

“Your apology?” Pidge said flatly, and he could see her move backwards, again geared to shut the door in his face. Which he’ll probably deserve.

Lance moved quick to raise the poster board in front of him, forcing himself to stare at Pidge with trembling hands clutching at the sides of probably the worst arts and crafts project he’ll ever make.

 

_CTRL + ALT + DEL. CAN WE START OVER?_

 

“I’m sorry,” Lance began, watching Pidge’s expression shift from annoyance to surprise. “I wasn’t going to post the video, and it was an accident. But I hurt you a lot. And you don’t have to forgive me, but I might as well try.”

A beat passed in silence as Pidge stared at the sign, a hand rising to cover over her mouth. He had no idea what she was thinking. Probably still thinking about slamming the door in his face. She looked up at him, finally, a small sigh escaping her lips.

“This is _so lame.”_ It was said with a smile, one that woke up the dormant butterflies in Lance’s stomach. Her hands crossing back over her chest, a soft laugh escaping her lips as if by accident. “Thank you, Lance.”

There was sincerity in her tone. A good sign.

He let out a sigh of relief he didn’t realize he was holding in, lowering the poster to one side and cracking a grin. “You’re welcome. I know this probably isn’t going to change anything but--”

A pause. _But what?_

“You’re really, really important to me Pidge. I don’t want to lose you.”

Pidge fell quiet, and a moment later did the one thing he didn’t expect her to do.

She grabbed his hand.

“I think I forgot that some things matter more than some dumb high school election.” She averted her gaze. “I don’t think I can forgive you yet. But this? This was a good start.”

Lance nodded, working around the lump forming in his throat. “Can we promise not to let competition get between us again?”

“Only if you promise to _never_ video tape me breaking-and-entering and hijacking the student broadcast ever again.”

“What? You looked so cool. Like some sort of geeky spy vigilante.”

She let out a hard laugh.

“I can’t even pretend to think that wasn’t sweet.”

“Please. I’m the sweetest guy you know.”

He almost forgot she was holding his hand, until she gave it a squeeze and an almost sincere smile.

“Yeah. You are.”

* * *

 

Election day had the campus buzzing, that was for sure. Pidge adjusted the grip on her bag as she made her way to homeroom. They were supposed to go and vote at lunch, which gave Pidge approximately three hours to pretend to pay attention to lectures.

And also pretend she wasn’t thinking about Lance and the stupid sign that he forced upon her, sitting propped up on her nightstand. She wasn’t entirely sure what made him think that it’d work and she’d just forgive him but… the effort was nice. Pidge had to acknowledge that. Even if there _was_ too much glitter glue.

Spanish and calculus went by quickly, and Pidge was almost annoyed when the clock in her psychology class took its sweet time counting down to lunch.

“You’re practically bouncing out of your seat,” Allura whispered to her.

Of course she was. Election day was important. She had to support her friends. Cast her vote. Democracy, blah, blah, _blah._

She was lucky Allura held her back when the bell rang, insisting on walking to the cafeteria together to eat with the usual suspects.

“You must be excited,” Allura said, giving Pidge a grin. Pidge stared back.

“About election season finally being over? Because I am _so_ done. Indefinitely.”

“Right. That’s what I meant.”

They maneuvered the halls as quickly as they could, eager to put down their bags and run to the polls. The energy was palpable in the cafeteria, droves of students gossiping over the ballots with their friends over the smell of pizza and ranch dressing. Others were already eagerly making their way to the gym to ink down their votes in the pop-up polling booths. And, as Pidge walked in with Allura, she realized it’s been awhile since she stepped foot in here to eat with her friends. Avoiding Lance for two weeks ended up causing that, but she was ecstatic to find the boys eager to see her.

Suspiciously so.

“Did you go vote yet?” Hunk asked, his grin growing wider with each word.

“We literally just got out of class,” Pidge said, dumping her bag over a seat between him and Allura. “But yeah, I was planning on going now. Any of you wanna come with?”

She didn’t mean to look at Lance or address him when she asked, but her eyes floated his way anyway. Lance gave her a sheepish look.

“Yeah. Why not?”

There was something odd in the way he said it, the way the other three glanced his way in almost perfect sync, wearing identical grins. Pidge raised her brow at them before Lance tugged her away by the elbow, again navigating the labyrinth of lunch tables and hungry teenagers.

“Who’re you voting for?” Lance asked, a tease in his tone. Pidge elbowed him in the side.

“You’re hilarious. You know, I could change my mind right now and write in Lotor’s name or something for vice president.”

“Oh, that hurts, Pidge,” Lance began, mockingly pressing a hand to his chest, lip jutted in a pout before what she said fully sank in, and his jaw fell open. “You’re voting for me?”

“I slept on it,” Pidge said, quickly. “And you know, I’m okay with you being vice president. You have good ideas and care about people. You’re going to do great.”

Neither of them spoke the rest of the way, not until they found the shortest line, not until the sound of squeaky sneakers on linoleum died and Pidge was next in line to put in her votes.

“Hey Pidge?”

She waited, turning her head to only slightly face him, to see a soft blush growing on his cheeks and a friendly grin.

“Yeah?”

There was a slight hesitation from Lance, who dug his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, giving her a quiet nod. “I thought the exact same thing about you.”

She wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that, not until the black curtain fell behind her and she turned to face the ballot, pen at the ready.

Hunk for treasurer. Check.

Allura for activities social chair. Check.

Keith for president. Obviously.

Lance for vice president…

Not check.

She took a step back, pulling her glasses off her face and scrubbing them as hard as she could with the hem of her shirt. It was impossible. By all her calculations, what she knew… what she was reading wasn’t supposed to be happening.

But it was. Clear as day in black ink on the ballot.

Katherine Holt. Vice president.

Her heartbeat picked up in pace, and she read over the ballot quickly to find the one name that was supposed to be there.

Secretary. Lance?

_Lance._

Her fingers were shaking, Pidge realized, as she put the ballot down and finished checking off the boxes.

Lance.

He had to be behind this… this... whatever the heck was happening.

He wasn’t there waiting for her, when she walked out of the polling booth and one of the other stuco kids handed her a round “I voted!” sticker. He didn’t seem like the type to bolt to avoid confrontation.

Then again, he didn’t seem like the type to throw the win, either.

It only takes her a moment to track him down, surprised to find him waiting for her just outside the gym, an easy smile on his face, a calm facade.

“Who’d you vote for?” Lance asked, nonchalant. She got close, inches from his chest, staring up into his face, a thousand thoughts swimming through her brain, a hundred things she could say on the tip of her tongue.

Instead, Pidge peeled off the sticker and pasted it to his forehead.

Lance blinked, surprised, hand rising to touch the sticker.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Pidge said, finally, taking a step back. “I… I got booted, fair and square.”

“I told Mr. Smythe I posted the video.” Lance said, as if that was supposed to answer every question she had. “I figured if you were going down with the ship then I probably should too.”

“And? Smythe and Principal Altea just _let_ you drop from the VP race, put my name back on the ballot, _and_ sign yourself up for secretary?” Pidge didn’t attempt to disguise the disbelief. Lance shrugged.

“I think it showed excellent initiative when I worked so hard to fight for something I really, really wanted.” Lance said, peeling the sticker from his head and pressing it against Pidge’s cheek. “Besides, you kept your campaign promise.”

“What?” Pidge squeaked, staring hard at him, racking her brain for any recollection of whatever the hell Lance McClain was on about this time.

“You ran my campaign into the ground.” He was grinning now, cheeky as ever. “And honestly? If I have to lose to anyone, thank god it was you.”

For a moment, Pidge had nothing else to say, instead opting to stare at Lance, the way he cocked his head at her, smiling with genuine delight at their situation. The reality of the situation hit her with intensity, and Pidge took a deep breath.

“You did this so I could keep my campaign promise?” Pidge finally managed to say. Lance nodded in agreeance, shrugging once more.

“I didn’t have to, sure. But… I really, really wanted to.”

“Why?”

It was then Lance turned sheepish, eyes averting, leaning down closer to whisper, out of earshot from any classmates.

“Would you believe me if I said it’s cause I have a crush on you?”

Then it was an impulsive reaction. Pidge was prone to impulsive things. But nothing quite like peeling the sticker off her face and sticking it over his mouth. Nothing quite like pulling him in by the cheeks and pressing her lips to his, an almost-kiss entirely obstructed by a large sticker proclaiming she was a voter in a high school student council election.

She wasn’t entirely sure this was a good first kiss, but Lance didn’t seem to complain until she pulled away, taking the sticker off and crumpling it in a final act of impulse.

“Any other surprises?” Lance whispered, a crack between his words. Pidge beamed.

“One last competition.” Pidge whispered back, raising a hand between them, intensity in amber hued eyes as she stared into Lance’s deep blues. “If I win--”

 _“When_ you win,” Lance corrected, breaking into a devilish grin. Despite herself, Pidge grinned back.

“When I win. You owe me a dance at Homecoming next year.”

“That’s too _easy._ When _I_ win, _you_ have to ask me to be your date. At school. Something super romantic and embarrassing.”

He took her hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “Deal?”

“You’re _insufferable.”_ Pidge returned the squeeze.

“May the best candidate win.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **EDIT 9/9/18:** HELLO!!! some errors were bothering me so i came back to fix them and also WHAT THE HECK U GUYS ARE DRAWING FANART AND I CAN'T IN GOOD CONSCIOUS NOT LINK THEM HERE:  
> <https://artemisarya.tumblr.com/post/177913243801/so-i-read-its-all-politics-by-ghostvinyls>  
> <https://giveion.tumblr.com/post/177762525313/i-love-nadiarizavis-plance-fic-my-heart-melted>
> 
> THEY'RE JUST RLY BEAUTIFUL PLS FOLLOW THESE SUPER TALENTED ARTISTS I CAN'T COPE RN. OH MY GOD. MY HEART IS MELTING ALL OVER MY KEYBOARD
> 
> hey!!! i went on vacation and school started and i SPACED ON THE WHOLE "u can post ur zine pieces now" kjdfskj  
> i wrote this for pidgeshipzine over on tumblr!!!!!! there's a lot of rly good good content in the zine and it was such an honor to write a piece for it!!!  
> tbh this is one of my favorite plance one shots i've done, just because sometimes you just need to write a fun high school au, amiright lads,  
> ok that's all i have 2 say haha thank you for reading <33 hugs and kisses i wish i had time to say/do more qqqq!!


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